


The Secret

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, During Canon, First Time, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-30
Updated: 2009-09-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam has a vision of himself killing Dean, and everything is looking like it is going to come true. Can they fight fate, or is this it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** No real spoilers in this story, mainly just went my own direction with it all. Maybe some mild spoilers through season 2.
> 
> Those of you looking for the immediate sex scenes in the story, that's not my style... I like to develop the relationships a little before they jump into bed together. I did put the rating as NC17 because, well, it will probably get there, but the first few chapters should stay relatively mild.  
> Sadly enough, I do not own any of the characters included in this story. I'm just using them for my own amusement. They belong to the CW and Kripke, whom I love very much for giving them to me.  
> I'm pretty much terrible at summaries, and I'm going a chapter at a time with this thing, so who knows how it will change, so just read and you'll figure it out right along with me. :)
> 
> ALSO, this is my first fanfic so pleaaseeeee go easy on me. I love the boys, but I'm no pro at writing about them.

\---

 

 

The day started out like any other day would. Dean was up, brushing his teeth in the motel bathroom; Sam sitting on his bed, newspaper in hand, looking for a job. It had been almost a week since they had found anything unusual, and Sam was about to give up for the day when he ran across something strange.

 

"Sunday school teacher brutally stabbed 13 children to death, then claimed to have lost her memory." Sam yelled to Dean, who was still in the bathroom.

 

"Wha'd you say?" Said Dean, while spitting out his toothpaste.

 

"I said some Sunday school teacher killed 13 of her students over in Evansville. She says she has no memory of ever doing it." Sam said, pulling out his laptop.

 

"You think it's our kind of gig?"

 

"I think it's worth a shot..." Sam searched the case on the computer, "She killed all of her students but one, who hid under the table during the gorefest."

 

"Man, bet the girl was traumatized." Dean said, while walking into the room, towel around his waist.

 

"Hmmm, it says she's going to talk about it in court and identified her teacher as the killer as soon as someone walked in..." Said Sam, scrolling down the page. "The girl's name is Grace Kramer, she's thirteen. She's actually supposed to be on Oprah tomorrow."

 

"Not exactly what I'd expect from a little girl who just witnessed someone going slasher on her Bible-buddies."

 

"There's definitely something wrong with it. All of it...think we should check it out?" Asked Sam, still staring at the computer screen.

 

"Don't know. Do you really want to take a case right now?" Dean asked.

 

"Well, why wouldn't I?" Sam said, looking up from his computer screen for the first time to look at Dean in only his towel. "Put on some clothes, man." He said, tearing his eyes away from his brother again as quickly as he could.

 

"Thought we were on a vacation." he said, stepping back into the bathroom, "How long has it been since we've been in a motel that actually has clean towels and fresh sheets on the beds anyway?"

 

"We can leave tomorrow... After Oprah." Sam said, closing his laptop.

 

"This is just an excuse to watch Oprah...isn't it?" Dean half-shouted from the bathroom.

 

Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring his question. "What are you thinking, though... Demon? Ghost? We really don't have many leads here."

 

Dean emerged from the bathroom, a black t-shirt and his usual Levi jeans on. "No telling. Maybe Oprah could help us on this one." He smiled at his brother teasingly.

 

"When in doubt..."

 

"...watch Oprah." Dean cut him off; beaming another smile.

 

Sam couldn't help but smile back to his brother. Their smile lasted just a second too long, and there was that awkward, 'should I look away' feeling Sam always got when he looked at his brother. There was something about his eyes, or his vibrant smile, that always captivated Sam, and made him forget what he was doing...Or thinking.

 

"Uh anyway..." Sam said, looking away finally, his smile fading back to his normal expression, with a hint of awkwardness. "What do you wanna do tonight? We might as well take this vacation thing for granted and go swimming down at the pool?"

 

"Sounds good to me." He said, smiling again.

 

Sam shot him one back. _Crap_ , he couldn't help it anymore.

 

\---

 

 

The pool was outdoor, and since it was August, it was more than a little cold. The boys decided they would have to cut their swimming adventure a little short that night, when in walked two girls, both very blond, very beautiful, and very much Dean's type.

 

"Hello there ladies." Dean said, rubbing his hand through his short wet hair, body glistening from the pool.

 

And right then, Sam knew he had lost his brother for the rest of the night.

 

\---

 

Sam set up in his bed, after trying to sleep for over an hour. Dean was still gone, which was what Dean usually did. Sam didn't know why it bothered him so much this time. He was worried about his brother, which didn't really add up, considering they were safer now than they usually ever were. He blamed his worry on the fact he had no real distractions like he usually did. No case to study up on, or mystery to solve. He was at a standstill with the Sunday-school teacher massacre and he was out of his sleeping pills, which always seemed to help him with nights like this. He couldn't stop thinking about Dean; what he was doing right then, where he was, what made him do the things he did. He shuddered. The thoughts soon became too much and he had to turn the t.v. on before they wondered too far.

 

"Today on Oprah" the t.v. roared the commercial advertisement for later that day.. Sam noted how happy the little girl looked despite what happened.

 

"Nobody is that okay after something like that happens." Sam said to himself.

 

Sam watched t.v. for about an hour, until he finally fell asleep, head resting at the wrong side of the bed. His mind full of ideas about the case, and not wandering where it shouldn't be.

 

\---

 

"Dean?" Sam gasped his brothers name. He had a nightmare, again. He seemed to be having those a lot lately. This time it was about the little girl. He saw her smiling wickedly while her teacher horrifically murdered her entire class, the blood droplets splattering her face. Then he saw himself, the knife shoved into Dean's stomach. He saw his face twist, and could tell that what he was doing wasn't voluntary.

 

Sam looked around the room. The lights of dawn were spilling into the room through cracks in the blinds. He didn't see Dean, thankfully. He didn't think he could deal with that. Dean had already woke Sam from too many nightmares. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his big brother...or have him ask about the dreams. They were twisted. Like most of the things that went through Sam's head. Sam didn't like the fact that he talked in his sleep...There's too many things he could be saying that he wouldn't want Dean to hear... or anyone else for that matter.

 

"Don't tell me...another bad dream?"

 

Sam shot his head around... _Crap, Dean was in the room._

 

"God, Dean... You scared the hell outta me... What are you doing awake?" Sam asked, still pretty shocked.

 

"Well, I was asleep, but I woke up to you yelling my name. Again. Is everything okay, Sammy?"

 

Sam paused. "Everything is...Well, I don't know." He looked down at the floor, he was sitting on the end of the bed now.

 

Dean came and sat beside him. "Y'know you can talk to me about this. I know how intense your nightmares are, Sam. I wanna help."

 

He couldn't tell Dean about what he saw. Dean would think he was crazy. Why would he be dreaming about that anyway? "I just...uh, it was a hunting accident... I was, trapped. There was someone after me." He hated lying to his brother.

 

Dean turned to look at him. "You sure that's all it was?" Dean didn't look convinced.

 

"Yeah..." Sam said, not meeting his brothers stare. "I guess you'll always be the hero. Even in my nightmares."

 

"That's what I'm here for, Sammy." Dean patted him on the back. "Now go back to bed. I gotta get my beauty sleep. The girls didn't let me get much rest while I was over there." He grinned.

 

Sam tried not to show his grimace. "Thanks Dean."

 

Dean smiled tiredly, "Anytime." he said; and Sam knew he meant it.

 

\---

 

They packed up their stuff and put the bags in the Impala. They had a long trip ahead of them. They had watched the little girl's interview and Dean was convinced that the she had been possessed at the time, as well as the teacher. Sam thought a little differently, but figured he'd look into his theory a little bit before he talked to Dean about it. Mind control was a bit of a stretch anyway. However, it was the only way he could make sense of the dream. The teacher had looked so upset while doing it. She was crying, and it looked like she wanted to scream, but she just kept going. The little girl was watching so pleasantly, and while the other girls were running, trying to get free, she just stood there. Sam didn't know if his dreams were still as reliable as they used to be. After all, he hadn't had one of his special dreams in a while now; they were mostly just terrible dreams about losing the only person he cared about: Dean.

 

Dean noticed his brother's thinking face and broke the silence in the car. "What's going on in that head of yours? Another Oprah fantasy?" he teased.

 

"Shut up... No, I was just thinking about..." He paused, "Uh, the last time we were up in Indiana. Remember that room we stayed in?" Sam asked, lying again.

 

"How could I forget? That had to be one of the top ten disco-style rooms we've stayed in over the past year..." Dean said, glaring at him. "What are you really thinking about, Sam? The truth this time..."

 

"Talk about your role reversal... Is Dean Winchester asking me to open up? I thought pressing the issue was my thing..."

 

"You're right man, I sound like a chick... You could always pull that off better than I could." Dean said, smiling at his brother.

 

Sam hated being cooped up in the car with him. Especially when Dean gave him that smile. It was as if there was nothing he could do to stay focused. He even forgot that his brother had just insulted him, and smiled back. It was times like these that Sam really just wished Dean weren't so good-looking. But he figured he would probably feel the same thing if he weren't.

 

_Brother, brother, brother... Right._ Sam had to remind himself sometimes.

 

Sam needed a girl. Someone to get his mind off...Well, Dean. Since Jessica, Sam had stayed away from the dating scene but he couldn't do it anymore. Dean didn't mean to make him feel this way. Sam was sure if Dean knew how he felt every time he smiled at him, he would try his best not to smile. Sam didn't blame him. Dean didn't ask for a brother like that. Sam didn't ask for a brother that was so god-damned beautiful either, or completely and totally everything Sam ever wanted... But he wasn't complaining either.

 

\---

 

Dean and Sam marched up the front steps of an old home, looking sharp in their detective costumes. Dean knocked steadily on the door, three times, then waited for about, oh, thirty seconds, before following it up with a harder series of knocks, which continued until a woman finally opened the door. Dean wasn't in the best mood... Road-trips did that to him.

 

"Hello." The woman said, in a dull voice. She was a frail looking woman, looked about mid-thirties. She looked as though she hadn't slept in a week. Her hair was wild and her face was pale.

 

"Hello Mrs. Kramer. I'm detective Hetfield, and this is my partner, detective Ulrich; we're here to talk to you about your daughter Grace. Is she here?" Dean said swiftly without thought while holding up his fake badge.

 

The woman stood there, with a blank expression on her face for a few seconds, then replied, "She's not here right now detective. Maybe another time." She slammed the door.

 

Sam looked at Dean, puzzling look in his eyes. "Well that was helpful..."

 

"Yeah, we're not done with her yet." Dean said, already knocking on the door again.

 

A few seconds later, the door creaked back open; the woman standing in nearly the same position as before.

 

"Hello." She said again, in the same voice.

 

"And the creep of the day award goes to..." Dean whispered to Sam, bumping his lips against his neck.

 

Sam tried not to react. "Uhh, ma'am, if it's alright with you, we would like to talk to you. We won't be long. Just a couple questions." He said, putting his arm against the door.

 

The woman paused again. "Yes come in." She said. Then she waited a few seconds and almost marched into the kitchen.

 

The boys followed curiously into the room, colorfully painted. There was dust coating the furniture and everything else. It looked as though no one had cleaned it in a while. There was also a very strong smell in the room; dead animals or something.

 

"Nice, ah, place you got here ma'am." Sam said, placing a finger through the coating of dust on top of the counter. "Where's your daughter anyway?"

 

She waited a moment, "Thank you." She said, ignoring the second half of what Sam had said.

 

"Right. Well right on to business then." Dean said, smiling uncomfortably. "Has your daughter been acting strange lately? In any way. Anything you could tell us would be great." He was trying to rush the woman along. Her slow responses were killing him a little.

 

She still waited a few moments before replying with a simple "no."

 

"You sure about that? You seemed to hesitate a bit for that answer." Dean said, jokingly. Nudging Sam with his elbow.

 

"Positive." She said, after a couple seconds.

 

"Okay, so this might be a little more difficult than we thought." Dean said to Sam.

 

\---

 

"So I'm definitely thinking something might be up. Mama Kramer seemed a little like a robot... You don't think she's a robot, do you?" Dean said, while they walked to the Impala.

 

"Yeah, anything's possible I guess." Sam replied, only half listening. Truth was, he couldn't shake the feeling he got. Mrs. Kramer just had this look; it reminded him of the look he had saw in his dreams. Being there, but not being there at the same time. Like she was an empty shell that someone was using as their puppet. This didn't feel like demon possession, it was something a little trickier than holy water and salt. Maybe it was time to share the theory with Dean.

 

"What do you think about mind control, Dean?" Sam asked, glancing at his brother.

 

"What about it?"

 

"What if the Sunday-school teacher was forced to do it, without her own free will." Sam paused. "What if Mrs. Kramer is being controlled too?"

 

"Mind control, Sam where's this coming from? Weren't we on the same page with the demon thing?"

 

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure. I think that little Gracie might just be a, well a persuader."

 

"Where's this coming from, man? You get that from watching Oprah and talking to some robo-mom for ten minutes. Come on. It's a little far fetched." Dean said.

 

"Well, I have my reasons. Just go with me on this one, okay Dean?"

 

Dean chewed it over for a few moments. "Okay... Persuader. So, what exactly do we need to do?"

 

"I think we need to pay Mrs. Kramer a unscheduled visit. Drop in without warning and see if she's being controlled or she's really just..."

 

"...A robot." Dean cut him off, giving his best mock detective expression.

 

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Right, a robot."

 

Dean grinned. And Sam's head went blank again.

 

 

\---

 

Later that night, Dean and Sam were waiting outside the Kramer house, about to go in. They debated on whether they should go through the front door, or just break in a window or something. Dean won, and they slid through the window around the back of the house.

 

"Shhh." Sam said. Dean was knocking things around and lightly laughing at himself.

 

"You shhh, don't 'shhh' me."

 

They walked around the house, stopping at an empty room, decorated with pink and barbie dolls.

 

"Looks like we found the little bitches layer." Dean said, smiling at Sam. "You really think a sweet little girl can go psycho without the help of a demon?"

 

Sam walked into the next room. There was a figure lying in the bed, Mrs. Kramer. Sam watched closely; she didn't appear to be breathing. "Mrs. Kramer?" He said lightly. Placing a hand on her back. "Dean, get in here!" He yelled.

 

Mrs. Kramer was cold; she was a popsicle in fact. She had no pulse, and her body was as hard as a rock.

 

"She's dead, Dean." Sam told his brother, looking at the floor. "By the looks of things, she's been dead a while. Her body is decomposing." The smell was almost intolerable. "God, that's awful. I should have seen this earlier... I guess you were right about the demon thing, Dean."

 

"Demon's host bodies don't decompose like that. And demons aren't that lifeless either, Sam. You saw her; she could barely hold herself up. I think you were right... I think we need to get out of here. Now." Dean started to walk out the door, expecting Sam to follow.

 

He didn't.

 

"C'mon Sam, we don't have time for this... I'm not sure how we're supposed to kill this thing. We've gotta figure this out before we get neck deep." Dean was pulling Sam's arm now.

 

Sam didn't move. He seemed to be in some shocked state. Dean guessed it was from the sight of Mrs. Kramer's rotting corpse.

 

"We've seen worse than that. There was nothing we could do anyway, she's been dead for a lot longer than we've been here... Now come on Sam; we've got to go, now." Dean pulled his brother again. He didn't budge.

 

Then he suddenly started walking out the door, and out the front door, down the stairs, and got into the Impala. Dean followed right behind, expecting Sam to say something. He sat in the drivers seat.

 

Dean looked puzzled. "You mad at me?" He said, starting up the engine.

 

Then he really looked at Sam. His eyes were frantic. They were looking all over the place, panicked. He was freaking out.

 

"Calm down, Sammy. I'll get us out of here." And he took off.

 

Sam sat quiet for about a minute during the drive. Then, all of a sudden, as if he had been sleeping the entire time, he gasped for breath and leaned agaisnt the seat.

 

"Dean!" He nearly shouted.

 

Dean almost slammed on the breaks, his brother's outburst catching him off guard. "What? What is it Sam?"

 

"Dean, I couldn't move. I coudn't breathe. That was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me." Sam gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

 

"Whoa, take it easy. Are you tellin' me you couldn't control your body?" Dean paused, finally putting the pieces together, "The persuader."

 

"Yeah, Dean. And I think I've figured out why Mrs. Kramer is dead... you can only do what you are told to do. Gracie forgets to tell you to breathe..."

 

"...You don't breathe." Dean finished, pulling the car over on the side of the road, "Thank god I got you outta there."

 

"I felt like I was about to pass out... I don't wanna go back there. I can't believe how easily I could be controlled. I couldn't do a thing, Dean."

 

Dean reached over and hugged him. Sam just breathed Dean in, and just stayed there in his arms for a while. He knew he had to tell Dean about his dreams now, there was no avoiding it. It was happening. Just thinking about what he did. What the persuader could make him do. He could never, ever hurt Dean. He would rather die. Sam just hated the fact that he had the vision to begin with. He was happy for the heads-up, absolutely. But warning Dean about his stabbing him in a dream he had? Dean had just gotten to where he didn't think he was a total psychic freak all the time. Maybe there was a way he could still keep this from Dean, but not kill him in the process. Sam pulled out of the hug.

 

"What do you think about another vacation?"


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Here's another chapter, it's moving along. I think I've finally decided where I'm going to take the story. Any and all feedback is very much appreciated.  


* * *

\---

 

 

"Sam, no offense, but I think the last thing we need is a vacation. We can handle this thing. It's not even a problem... I'm gonna check dad's journal and see what we're supposed to do to kill it. I won't let them get you. Besides, they can only control one person at a time. So if you can just hold your breath while I kill the bitch, we should be fine." Dean smiled.

 

"Anything could go wrong... Besides, you don't know how freaky it was just being controlled like that. She could make me do anything Dean." Sam didn't want to talk about this. He wanted it to be an easy decision for him. He wanted Dean to agree that a vacation was a good idea, and to just get the hell out of there.

 

"We can handle this. We've dealt with a lot worse. Just, chill... We'll talk about this another time" he patted his brother on the back, and started the car back up.

 

\---

 

Sam didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had to tell Dean. He was only putting it off now. He couldn't loose him, not to some pathetic thirteen year old persuader. He couldn't wipe the image of him thrusting the blade into his brother's stomach, blood coming out of his mouth. He wanted to yell. He wanted to take Dean and get him out of there. He was being selfish, he had to tell him now...

 

They were sitting in the motel room. Dean was looking through his dad's journal, looking for a mention of anything that could control a person's mind. Sam was lying on his back on the bed, trying to decide how he was going to do this.

 

"Dean."

 

"Yeah?" Dean said, not paying much attention to his brother.

 

"Dean. I need to talk to you."

 

"That much I got. What is it Sammy?" he said, looking up from the book.

 

"It's about my dream... It wasn't about a hunting accident." Sam couldn't look at his brother. "I saw you... I uh, saw both of us Dean." He was babbling, trying to hold off the truth. He didn't want to see Dean's face when he told him.

 

"Right... Sam, look man..."

 

"No, wait Dean. I have more to say." He stared at him. Dean opened his mouth to say something else, but he just shut it, and listened.

 

"I saw me, stabbing you in the stomach...And I think it was probably the little girl. I mean, of course it was, I wouldn't stab you if it weren't because of something. And Dean, I know you probably think I'm a freak, but I know if I don't do something, it will happen, and I can't let it happen Dean. That's why we have to leave. We can't stay here and wait for me to turn on you." Sam was breathing hard now, he said everything in what seemed like a single breath.

 

"Oh."Dean took in what he said, looking a little relieved for some reason, nodding and staring at him. "That's what you were talking about... Why didn't you tell me this before, Sam?"

 

"I couldn't. I knew you would look at me, well, exactly like you are right now."

 

"And how is that?" Dean asked.

 

"You're looking at me like I'm some sort of freak... Which I can't blame you for, cause I am. But I just hate that it's you who's looking at me that way. Like I'm a disappointment. That's the last thing I ever want to be for you, Dean." Sam looked like he was about to cry. But he huffed it up, and did his best not to. And he didn't.

 

"No, Sam, I'm not disappointed... I'm really not. And I'm glad you told me. Running away from this isn't gonna help. I'll know what to watch out for. I'll hide the daggers, okay?" Dean said, trying to inject humor into their highly emotional conversation.

 

Sam chuckled a little, snuffed a little, and was feeling a little better. Dean had that effect on him. "I think we should just leave. Let someone else deal with this. I don't wanna be anyone's puppet."

 

Dean looked at him for a second; Sam was really messed up about this. Dean really didn't want to deal with it either, but they had to help all the people the girl could hurt. It wasn't just about them. And sure it wasn't fair, but when had anything ever been fair.

 

"I'm not about to walk away from a job just because I might get a little messed up before it's done with. Besides, persuader or not, I could take you down blindfolded." He laughed and shot his brother that charming smile.

 

God, _why did he have to do that?_ Sam looked away, trying to think of something to change the subject. He wasn't ready to agree with anything just yet. He had a lot to think about.

 

"So what did you think I was talking about?" Sam questioned, meeting his brother's eyes again.

 

"What d'you mean?"

 

"Well, what did you think my dream was about? If you were relieved that I stabbed you in the stomach, then what you were thinking must've been a lot juicier." Sam smiled at him.

 

"Oh, uh, I don't know what I was thinking..." Dean paused, "just that your dream could've been a lot worse." Now it was Dean's turn to lie.

 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it could've." Sam retorted, eying Dean curiously, "you don't know what it was like though, man. It was the worst thing I've ever felt. I was hurting you, and there was nothing I could do about it... We can't let it happen, Dean. No matter what." Sam looked away.

 

"Look, it's not gonna happen. Besides, what was I doing that made me such an easy victim? I would be on my toes no matter what with the persuader around... I can't imagine me letting you just...stab me. I would be stomping your ass."

 

That was true. Sam searched his mind. Why had Dean been so simple to stab? It didn't make much sense. Sam was lucky if he could get a good punch in on his brother, much less a knife. He played the dream in his head. Dean looked shocked...and hurt. He could see it clear as day. He couldn't see anything that would cause him to be so vulnerable.

 

"I don't know..." Sam told him, "but I know I saw it."

 

Dean paused before replying, "We'll make sure it works out differently," he said in his biggest badass voice.

 

Sam grinned, shaking his head, "How can you always convince me so easily?"

 

"It's cause I'm adorable."

 

Dean had that right; Sam knew it, Dean knew it, the whole world knew it.

 

"Use your abilities with caution, Dean." Sam smiled.

 

"Yeah yeah." He said, shoving his brother away teasingly.

 

\---

 

"Okay, so I think I've figured out how to kill this thing. It's actually probably one of the easiest kills we could think of." Sam said, looking at the computer. "All the research I can find says a persuader is killed quickest by..."

 

"...Gunshot to the head?" Dean interrupted.

 

"No..." Sam said.

 

"Then it's not the easiest."

 

"Let me finish... A persuader can only be killed during the act of persuasion...then it is as vulnerable as any human."

 

"Right, and considering she seems to favor making you her bitch, I can sneak up on her and shoot her in the head." Dean smiled triumphantly.

 

"Yeah, but we have to find her before I find you." Sam replied, starting intently at his brother. "Maybe we should tie me up...It'll keep me out of the way until you can find her."

 

Dean shook his head, "then she'll just use me... And you'll be tied up... You'd be an easy kill for her." He swallowed.

 

"Right... well I like that better than the alternative of me...killing you."

 

"Haven't we already talked about this? Besides, how do you know I even died in that dream of yours? For all you know, I could've walked out of that room with little Gracie's head on a plate." Dean said.

 

"I doubt you'd be doing much walking..." Sam paused. "Let's just say it wasn't pretty."

 

Dean looked out the window, "I'll take my chances."

 

\---

 

That night Sam lied in bed, thinking about all that could go wrong, thinking about all that very well may go wrong. He tried to imagine what it would do to him if his vision came true. He thought about Dean. He wished Dean wasn't so far away from him now, and that they could sleep together like they used to when Sam was a boy.

 

People grow up, and things like that are unacceptable. Sam closed his eyes, trying to silence his thoughts. Before he knew it, he was out. Sam found himself close to Dean, really close to him. Dean pressed his lips against his. Sam put his arms around Dean, and just held him there. Dean was warm, and firm, and just...right. Sam had never felt so peaceful. Then, before he knew it, Dean was being dragged away from him. He woke up yelling again.

 

"Dude, it's four in the morning." Dean said, jumping out of bed.

 

Sam was up and looking around the room; looking for Dean. He was still partly asleep... or maybe his mind just hadn't caught up with the idea that it was only a dream.

 

"Dean!" Sam kept yelling; he was crying silent tears now, tearing apart the room looking for his brother. "Just hold on Dean, I'll find you."

 

"Sam..." Dean said, reaching out for his brother, "Sammy, I'm right here... Look at me."

 

Sam blindly looked at his brother. Dean couldn't tell if he really saw him or not.

 

"I'm here Sam... It'll be okay." Dean started to reach out to hug his brother to hopefully calm him a little.

 

Sam lurched forward, and grabbed Dean's face, and started to kiss him desperately. Dean was in shock, he didn't understand what his semi-conscious brother was trying to do until at least ten seconds into the kiss. He shoved him away; Sam fell, landing back on his bed.

 

"What the hell?" Dean said to himself.

 

Sam was already asleep again.

 

Dean didn't know what to think. Or do. Did he just go back to bed after that? Or did he wake Sam and talk to him about it. He had never dealt with anything like this with Sam before.

 

He decided that it would probably be best to pretend it never happened. Which Dean was more than capable of doing. It was already awkward enough half the time between the two brothers. The last thing they needed was a sleeping kiss piled on the unstable pile of tension between them. Dean didn't know why he couldn't wake his brother, to at least tease him about it. Maybe Sam didn't know it was even him. Maybe he was dreaming about Jessica... Or anyone else. It was completely possible.

 

But then there was the fact that Sam was shouting Dean's name, looking for him.

 

Dean pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Who can truly understand the logic of a geek, psychic boy's dreams, anyway?

 

So Dean climbed back in bed, and drifted back to sleep, the taste of Sam still in his mouth. Sam slept silently and more peacefully than he had in a long time. He had finally found Dean.

 

\---


End file.
